


Fragments from a Casebook

by lfthinkerwrites



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Father-Daughter Relationship, Multi, PI!Riddler, second love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2019-08-23 06:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16613912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lfthinkerwrites/pseuds/lfthinkerwrites
Summary: A collection of oneshots taking place in the world of Edward Nigma, Private Investigator.





	1. Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! Given how far behind I am on updating my prompts and oneshots fic, I've decided to collect all of the oneshots and prompt fills I've done for PI Verse here.

Edward never drank much, Selina noticed. Champagne occasionally. Mixed sweet drinks when he was celebrating a successful heist, or more recently, the conclusion of a case. He never touched hard liquor.

Until tonight. Tonight was the second anniversary of the Joker’s takeover of Arkham Asylum. Mayor Sharp, the survivors, and the city had paid respects to the people who had died that night.

All but one of them.

Edward Nigma was the only one paying respect to the memory of Jonathan Crane. Oswald had called Selina down to the Iceberg Lounge after Eddie had finished his third shot of whiskey. Selina was watching him polish off his sixth shot. “How are you feeling Eddie?”

Edward brought down his shot glass. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to Lina,” he answered, slurring his words a bit. He’d have one Hell of a hangover tomorrow. He poured himself another shot and was about to raise it to his lips when Selina took it out of his hands.

“Eddie, enough. This won’t make you feel any better.”

Edward glared at her, but his red-rimmed eyes didn’t quite pack the wallop he probably wanted. He sighed and his shoulders sagged. “It’s been two years. I don’t even remember most of our relationship. I should be over this by now.”

Selina gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “It doesn’t work like that Eddie.” Edward leaned into her touch. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

Edward nodded. “Alright.” He got up to his feet, only slightly swaying. Selina guided him back to her car, exchanging a quick nod with Oswald on their way out.

“Do you want anything?” Selina asked as they got on her car. “Do you want me to call anybody? Nina and Deirdre? Penelope?”

Edward shook his head. “Could you-don’t take this the wrong way-could you stay for a bit tonight?”

Selina smiled. “Sure, Eddie.”

 


	2. Parallels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the not too distant past, two very different women meet.

Harley, as a rule, couldn’t stand the doctors at Arkham. Half of them were idiots, the others either didn’t care about the patients, only being here for a paycheck. Some were as crazy as the inmates themselves. Anyone who actually was here to make a difference either was run off or quickly broken.

Out of all of them though, it was Dr. Young that Harley couldn’t stand the most. Stuck up, overly serious, not as smart as she thought she was Dr. Young. Harley had disliked her the moment she’d begun her internship at Arkham with her nose in the air. Sessions with her were the worst. The way she’d stare coldly at her like she was dissecting her. Harley hated it, but not as much as the look the doctor was giving her now.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Dr. Young made a small noise of irritation. “Like what, Ms. Quinzel?” That was another thing Harley hated about her. So impersonal. Didn’t she know a doctor shouldn’t be so cold with patients? How’d she expect any of them to open up to her?

“Like you feel sorry for me,” Harley sassed. “I know, I know. ‘Poor little lost Harley Quinn. Such a shame, she had so much potential, only to led astray by the horrible criminal Joker’. That’s what everyone thinks.”

“I’m not everyone, Ms. Quinzel.”

Harley snorted. “Yeah, sure. You’re special.”

Dr. Young sighed. “I don’t understand why you carry so much hostility towards me, Ms. Quinzel.”

“Don’t give me that! I know you’re the one who said that I should be moved to a separate facility from Mr. J! What, you want him for yourself?”

Harley knew from both the disgusted look on the doctor’s face and from her own observations that Mr. J wasn’t the patient she had her eye on. Her thoughts turned a bit vindictive. Would Jonny be as mindful of her safety if he knew the real reason she hadn’t ended her sessions with Eddie? Maybe she should tell him and find out.

“He threw you out of a moving car going almost 50 miles an hour, Ms. Quinzel. And that was the least he’s done to you this month. How can you still think he cares about you?”

“That was an accident! Puddin’ loves me! You’d understand if you weren’t so stuck in your work!”

Dr. Young got out of her chair. “I don’t think these sessions are getting either of us anywhere. I know how horribly the Joker’s treated you, but that’s only half your problem.” She shook her head. “You had every chance to succeed here, Harleen. Why would you throw that away?”

That was what Harley hated most about Dr. Young. Every so often, she’d look at her and see who she used to be. “There’s a more fun side to life Doc. Mr. J showed that to me. Maybe someday, you’ll find someone to show that to you.”

“I very much hope not,” Dr. Young muttered under her breath.


	3. Things My Heart Used to Know, Things it Yearns to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While out with Ellen, Edward takes a trip down memory lane...

Edward let out a huff. “Ellen, we’ve been out for five hours. How many more things do you want to sketch?”

His daughter turned around from where she was seated on a bench and stuck out her tongue at him. “I’m almost done, Old Man. Jeez. You’d think I was asking you to run a marathon with me.”

“We might as well be given how much walking around we’ve been doing,” Edward groused. “And don’t stick out your tongue at me! It’s unladylike.”

Ellen rolled her eyes and went back to her sketching. She was currently drawing a picture of a dog and its owner walking down the Gotham street. Why she thought this was a compelling subject Edward didn’t know, but he was getting bored. He looked away from the back of his daughter’s head and took a look at their surroundings. They were in the West End, just a few blocks from the beginnings of the Narrows if he remembered right. If Ellen had any ideas of going that way he’d put a quick end to that. His eye caught a building a few feet down and he did a double take. He thought he recognized it.

Without saying a word to Ellen, he walked down towards the building, stopping when he reached its front. It looked like an old row house that had been condemned. The windows were boarded up and the paint was peeling away, much like many of the buildings in this part of town. This one in particular though…it felt like a memory from a dream…

_…He’s twenty-two years old, wearing a tight-fitting green spandex suit and a huge smile on his face. “Riddle me this, girls,” he says to the two women in the room with him. “Who has just made out like bandits?”_

_The girl closest to him, the one with the short black hair, laughs. “Us, Eddie!” She throws her arms around him and gives him a peck on the cheek. “Way to go!”_

_The blond girl, a bit more aloof, but no less happy, smiles. “Congrats, boss. Our first big heist.”_

_“But not our last,” he says. “Girls, this is just the beginning. Soon, Gotham City will know who really runs it. The King of Conundrums, The Prince of Puzzlers, the one and only…”_

…” Pops?”

Edward started and looked behind him. Ellen was there, looking at him curiously. “You’ve been staring at that building for a while. What’s up?”

Edward shook his head. Dream or memory, whatever it was, it had passed. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

Ellen cocked her head but dutifully followed him. He walked away from the building, long ago laughter fading with every step.

 


	4. Roads Not Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you miss something you never really had?

Selina wasn’t in love with Edward. Fond of yes, but in love? Never. They’d had their fun together, but that was in the past. They each had their own lives now, Selina with her girls, Eddie with his PI business. That didn’t mean they didn’t have time for each other anymore though, as Selina’s visit to Eddie's office attested.

Selina laughed as Edward finished his account of his latest case. “So your client had you searching high and low all over Gotham for a missing parrot?”

“Yes,” Edward said. “What a waste of my talent!”

“Poor baby,” Selina teased. “You got a nice check out of it at least I assume?”

“$10,000,” Edward smirked. “It’s a very well loved bird. And I got an extra bit of fun: before I returned Chauncey, I taught him how to say ‘Riddle me This!’“

Selina laughed again and Edward joined in. Once their laughter died down, she looked at her friend and smiled. “I’ve missed this.”

Edward raised an eyebrow. “You visited me last weekend.”

Selina shook her head. “I mean, I’ve missed how much fun we used to have. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you this relaxed.”

Edward smiled a bit. “I’m not going to pretend I don’t have a lot on my mind, but yes. It’s odd, but I feel better than I ever have.”

“Good. I miss the way things used to be, Eddie.”

Edward nodded. “Me too, Lina. Me too.” At that moment, his cell phone rang from his pocket. He held a finger up. “Wait one second.” He answered his phone. “Hello?” Instantly, his eyes lit up and Selina knew who it was. “Hello! What can I do for you-” He listened for a moment. “Now? Oh, well, I-” he gave Selina an apologetic look.

She got off the couch they were both sitting at and gave him a wave. “I’ve got to get going anyway. Have fun.”

Edward flashed her a grateful look then continued on with his conversation. “I can be there in twenty minutes.” He reached up to smooth back his hair and Selina took that as her cue to leave.

She left the office and her smile fell a bit. She’d never loved Eddie romantically. Never had, never would. So why then, did it hurt just a bit, watching him fall in love with someone else?

 


	5. Trust

“I just want to say that this is a stupid idea.”

“I know,” Penelope said dryly. “You’ve said that twice in the past thirty minutes.”

Edward huffed and crossed his arms. “Why did Sharp even invite you to this gala? You’ve already gone on the record as opposing his policies at Arkham.”

“I think he still thinks he can bring me around. He’s always been paternalistic towards me.”

“He’s too interested in you. It’s dangerous.”

“It’s useful,” she argued. “I can get a lot more information out of him if I seem open to the possibility of being convinced.”

Edward knew she had a point, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Unfortunately, he’d crossed Sharp once too often to be able to get within five hundred feet of his parties. “I’m still going to have one of my people there. And no, I’m not telling you who.” 

“That’s your prerogative,” she said. Her voice softened just a touch. “I know you don’t like this, but I can handle Sharp. Do you trust me to do this?”

Edward sighed. “I trust you,” he said. “It’s everyone else in this city I don’t.”


	6. This Isn't Who I Am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward has off days.

The bright lights of Vale’s studio contributed to Edward’s already pounding headache. Today was a Bad Day, but his recent (and high-profile) closing of a kidnapping case had prompted calls from every news outlet in Gotham, and Vicki Vale was his favorite. And frankly, given the choice between staying inside staring at the walls all day and having his handsome face all over television in Gotham, well, that was hardly a choice, was it?

So he sat in the plush chair across from Vale, his fingers drumming a tattoo on the armrest, 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4, smiling and trying to ignore the dark thoughts in his head.

Vale, as always, was the image of professional courtesy. “So Mr. Nigma,” she said, her pearly white teeth in a smile, “this next Thursday marks the official second anniversary of your public announcement of your reform.”

1,2,3,4. 1,2,3,4. “Does it now?” he asked. He’d known, of course. The timing of that anniversary and his closing of the case had been anything but coincidental. He smirked a bit more. “Well, how about that?”

“There were many who claimed that you weren’t serious in your reform. What would you like to say to them?”

Edward chuckled a bit. “Well, far be it from me to gloat-”  _Liar._ Edward git his teeth a bit and his fingers began to drum a bit faster. 1234,1234. “But I didn’t choose to reform to get one up on my detractors.”  _Out of the goodness of your heart, right?_ He sucked in a breath and continued before Vale could notice the increasing tempo of his fingers. “Of course, I understand that most people- _Idiots. Morons. Mental Midgets. “Most_ people will always find it difficult to trust me, but I’d like to think that the cases I’ve solved help balance the scales a bit.”

“There are some though, that would say that your reform had done more harm than good. The Goodman incident last year-”

 _1234, 1234, 1234 1234_. “I was officially cleared of any wrongdoing in that!”

Vale’s face creased a bit.  _Calm down, Edward._ “Of course, I wasn’t trying to accuse you of anything. But there are some people that charge that you only take cases for the challenge, or that personally interest you, rather than ones where you can do the most good.”

 _1234123412341234…_  Could he for once, just once, get the luxury to pretend that he was really trying to turn over a new leaf, that he wasn’t just the same crook with a glossy new veneer, that he really wanted to be different, to be better, to prove that she was right to trust him, to prove that he deserved to be happy- “This isn’t who I am.”

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

Edward dropped his hand, letting it come to a rest. Vale wasn’t supposed to hear that. He cleared his throat. “Pardon me, I mentioned that that person my detractors describe…that isn’t who I am. Not anymore at least.”

_Liar._


	7. Retribution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope has an idea of what her old mentor would say to her.

She should have known that there would be consequences for what she’d done.

After the Joker had been returned to his cell, the GCPD had come for her. “Experimenting on Bane?” they’d said. “Working with the Joker? She must be insane. Put her in Arkham, where she belongs,” And so they had, shutting her away in a dark, cold cell. No one had come to see her, not Aaron, not Joan. She couldn’t blame them. She didn’t know how much time had passed since the riot. All she had known since was darkness, and the taunts she could hear from the patients, her former patients. 

Then, her cell door opened. “Penelope Young?” a familiar voice calls out.

Penelope looked up from where she sat on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. “Professor Crane?” What did he want? “What are you doing here?”

He laughs, low and cold. “I think we need to talk.”

She wanted to get up, but she felt frozen to her spot on the floor. “About what?”

He kneeled down so that he was on her level and every instinct she had told her to run. But where would she go? Her cell felt even smaller now. “You’ve meddled where you shouldn’t have, child. I did warn you, didn’t I?”

She bit her lip, trying to vain not to cry. “I only wanted to help…I thought what I was doing would cure patients, help people-”

“Spare me your bleating about your intentions, Penelope. I don’t give a damn about that. Do you think I’m here about the TITAN?” Suddenly, he grabbed her arm, his nails digging through the thin material of her jumpsuit and drawing blood. She cried out in pain and fear as he pulled her in closer to him. “Do you think I never noticed, how you’ve been looking at him? Pining for him?” He lowered his head so he was hissing into her ear. “He is mine, child. He was mine long before you ever lay eyes on him, and I do not share.”

“Professor,” she cried out. “Jonathan please, I never, I don’t want to take him away from you, I know how much you-”

 _“SHUT UP!”_  The next thing she felt was the cold prick of a needle in her neck. She looked up to see her professor’s face was a red ruin, one eyeball hanging out of its socket, blood gushing out of the hole where his nose once was and she screamed. _“You can’t have him!”_  he screams at her.  _“I’ll kill you first!”_ His mouth opened wide and she screamed again-

-She woke up in her apartment bed, panting. Her hand immediately flew to her neck, but there was no needle mark there. She looked at the clock on her dresser. 4:00 am. She pulled herself out of bed and went to her dining room to finish her report. There would be no further sleep tonight.


	8. You Shouldn't Have Gone By Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward has lost at least two decades of his life thanks to Ellen.

“Edward Nigma, Private Investigator. How may I-”

_“Eddie! The Narrows Flat complex just got attacked by Firefly!”_

“Good evening to you too Selina. That’s tragic, but I don’t see how-”

_“The news just showed your kid running into that building!”  
_

Edward Nigma’s heart froze.

* * *

 

Edward ran through the crowd as fast as his legs could take him, almost running people over in his haste. The burning apartment building was only a hundred feet away from him now, but it felt like a mile. A fireman saw him approach and bodily held him back. “Sir, you can’t go any closer-”

“Get out of my way, you imbecile!” Edward spat. “I have to go in that building!”

The fireman’s eyes widened in recognition, but he held firm. “No way, only firemen are going in. Stay back!”

Edward had to go. The longer he stayed still, the more panic-stricken he was becoming. He had to go, he had to go in, he had to find her, “My daughter’s in that building!”

The fireman’s jaw dropped. “You’re-holy shit. That kid was your kid!?”

That kid? Was? That kid past tense? No no no no no no, Ellen Ellen Ellen…Edward’s vision was going dark and he felt like he was about to vomit, he barely survived losing Jonathan, how could he face losing Ellen, he’d only just met her, how could she be taken away from him so quickly it wasn’t fair my daughter my daughter my daughter-

“Pops?”

Edward’s eyes flew open. There, standing in front of another fireman, covered in soot, was Ellen. His daughter. She was alive. And Edward had never been more furious in his life.

“What were you thinking!?” he yelled. “Were you thinking!?”

“There was a little kid trapped on the third floor! I had to save him!”

“No, you didn’t!” Edward screamed. “No, you didn’t! You ran into a burning building by yourself! You could have been killed! You could have-”

Ellen’s arms were suddenly wrapped around Edward. In an instant, he had her wrapped in an equally tight hug. He realized that there were tears running down his face. “I almost lost you,” he said. "You shouldn’t have gone by yourself.“

“I know Dad. I’m sorry.”

The firemen left them alone to finish putting out the fire. For now, at least, they weren’t Edward Nigma and Enigma. They were father and daughter.

 


	9. Preview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Close proximity forces Edward to consider something for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Small preview of an upcoming case file!)

It’s 3 AM, but Edward couldn’t sleep. He’d been lying on his couch for three hours since she’d gone into his room, but he couldn’t sleep. His eyes kept going down the hall towards his room, where there was a woman sleeping in his bed, and he couldn’t help but think of just how surreal that was, that there was a woman in his bed and that he wasn’t with her-

“Stop,” he said. “She’s your partner. She’s here for her own safety. As soon as you find out who’s after her formula, she’ll be gone and things will go back to the way they were.” This didn’t make him feel any better. He let out a frustrated groan. “Perhaps it’s time to book a session at Pandora’s Box, it’s been a while since you’ve had any kind of an outlet, it’s only natural that you might-”

A sharp cry from down the hall stopped his thoughts dead. He jumped off of the couch and ran as fast as he could towards his room. “Penelope!?”

He didn’t bother to knock before he burst in. She was still there, in his bed, her eyes closed, crying out. Night terrors. “Don’t!” she cried out again. “Please, don’t, I beg you, don’t hurt him, don’t!”

Edward was on the bed and without thinking, grabbed her wrists. “Wake up! You’re dreaming!”

Her eyes opened wide and they looked up at him in fear and in anger. “You monster!” she screamed. Jerking a hand free, she backhanded Edward, snapping his head back. “Get away from me!”

That hurt. That had really hurt! Edward brought a hand to his face. “Jesus Christ!”

This seemed to fully wake up Penelope and she brought her hand up to her mouth. “Edward? Is that you?”

“Who else would it be!?” he asked. “I think you almost broke my nose!”

“I’m sorry, I thought you were the Joker-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Edward froze a bit at that. The Joker? Then it made sense. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. She was having a night terror, she still feared the Joker after all this time, and unfortunately, he had the same green eyes the clown did. But still…when she was with him, did she still keep the clown in the back of her mind? Did he remind her of him? Did she, on some level, think that he and Joker were still peers? Then he heard her begin to sob, and all other thoughts left his mind.

 


	10. Importance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope finds out where she stands with Edward.

Penelope’s a bit early heading to Edward’s office, clutching a file close to her chest and absolutely not thinking about how much she’s missed the man in the week it’s been since they’ve seen each other. It’s only been a week after all. And they have their own lives. So when she arrives and she can hear him through the door of his office in a loud conversation with someone over the phone, she stands outside and waits.

She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Edward’s voice is loud and carries outside. She frowns a bit when she realizes that his tone is angry. A client? His words reach her and she becomes almost rooted to the spot when she realizes that he’s talking about her. _“…Harley, for the last time, I can’t drop what I have going on just to-Because I’m seeing Penelope today, that’s why!… Harley, you are absolutely the last person who should lecture anyone about-Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to-Alright. Fine. Yes. I absolutely would drop everything for her, because the only person in my life who is more important to me than her is my daughter. And the way you’re carrying on, you’re slipping even further down that list. Goodbye, Harley. And one more thing? Your continued presence in my life is conditional, and right now, it is conditional on you not ever referring to her in that way again. Are we clear?”_ He hangs up the phone then and Penelope can hear him swear before walking around.

She stands still for a moment, at conflict with herself. She’s the cause of an argument between Edward and someone he considers a friend and she should and does feel some guilt for that, but at the same time, she’s just heard proof that she is one of the most important people in his life, more than Harley Quinn, more than Selina even. And that thrills her in a way that she’s afraid to examine.

So she waits five minutes before she knocks on the door. And when he answers and lets her in, she doesn’t bring it up and neither does he. And that’s alright.


	11. A Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward has Very Bad Days.

For the first time that Edward can remember at least, he has a stable routine. Wake up. Shower. Shave. Choose his ensemble for the day. Go to the office. Read his messages. See his clients. Take his anxiety medication. Get to work taking pictures of people having affairs. Take his Zoloft. Go back to his office. Type up his reports. Talk to Oswald, or Selina, or Nina and Deirdre depending on their schedules. See Penelope on Fridays, when her schedule allows and ignore the ever-growing urges because that won’t end well. (Diane, Selina, Jonathan, it never ends well.) Go home. Eat. Take his aspirin on days when the glasses aren’t enough to keep the migraines at bay. Go to bed. Wake up. Rinse and repeat, over and over and over-

It’s a routine. It’s his routine. It’s stable. It’s predictable. 

It’s boring.

Boredom is dangerous.

He doesn’t have the lows of spending time in an obsessive spiral, scribbling out plans and riddles and counter-plans until he looks up and realizes that it’s been three days since he’s eaten or slept and he’s about to collapse, but he also doesn’t have the highs of pulling off a heist, or engaging the Dark Knight in the Great Game, there is no Great Game anymore, only this stifling routine.

He looks at himself in the mirror some days and doesn’t recognize the respectable, almost normal man he’s become. 

Wasn’t there once a time he’d have rather rot in Arkham than become conventional?

It feels more and more, as time goes by and this new stability smothers him, drowns him, makes him want to claw out of his own skin because this just doesn’t feel _right_ , that there is a hole in him where the riddles used to be, and nothing, not Oswald, not Selina, not Penelope, not even the matter with Sharp and Strange can fill it. Maybe, he thinks one night as he climbs exactly fifty steps up the stairs to his apartment, that perhaps when that case is concluded, he’ll go back to who he used to be, to see if the hole could be filled. It’s a conversation he’d had with himself before, but something about tonight makes him determined. Yes. Yes. After Sharp, after Strange, he’ll return, he’ll show everyone, he’ll be back and nothing and no one will talk down to him, or put him on drugs, or reject him or force him to feel things he’s terrified to feel ever again-

He goes to unlock the door only to find it already open. He opens the door to find the culprit sitting on his couch with her feet up on the coffee table, drinking ginger ale and watching his TV. She looks up and gives him a jaunty wave. “Hey, Pops.”

Edward shakes his head and shuts the door behind him. “Get your feet off my coffee table,” he scolds. “Were you raised in a cage?”

Ellen rolls her eyes but does as she’s told, then puts her drink down on a coaster and makes a monkey gesture. “Ooga booga booga! Ellen hungry! Ellen want eat!”

It’s Edward’s turn to roll his eyes. “What, you haven’t had your fill going through my pantry again?”

“All you’ve got are crackers and those organic low sodium rice cakes! How am I supposed to eat that?”

“Ellen, one day you’re not going to have the metabolism of a teenager anymore and when that day comes, you’ll wish you ate more organic low sodium rice cakes.” He is hungry too though, and it’s been too long since he’s spent an evening with his irascible daughter. He gestures towards the door. “Come on. Let’s go to the store and pick up some things.”

Ellen’s eyes light up. “Pasta?”

Edward smiles a bit, the first genuine smile he’s had all day. “Why not? I can teach you how I make it if you want.”

“Yeah!” Ellen springs up from the couch, turning the TV off and grabbing her coat. Edward opens the door back up and the father and daughter head off.

Edward doesn’t think about riddles or relapses for the rest of the night.

 


	12. The Most Annoying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron and Edward have never gotten along with each other.

Edward Nigma may not be the most dangerous member of what the media dubs the Gotham Rogues Gallery, but for Aaron’s money, he’s the most annoying.

“Riddle me this,” he says as Aaron is escorting him to yet another session with Dr. Young. “I have billions of eyes, yet I live in darkness. I have millions of ears, yet only four lobes. I have no muscle, yet I rule two hemispheres. What am I?“

“I don’t give a damn,” Aaron says. “And I don’t get paid enough to play games with you, Nigma.”

Undeterred, Nigma lets out a condescending laugh. “The answer, of course, is the human brain. I’m not surprised you’re not familiar with it. You wouldn’t still be working here if you had one!”

This is the second insult in as many minutes that Nigma’s tossed his way. Since Crane got put in solitary, he seemed to need a new person to throw barbs at. Aaron grit his teeth, resisting the urge to smack him upside the head. Dr. Young’s already chewed him out once for striking him in front of her, never mind the fact that the little shit had it coming for mocking his fear of Croc. “You ought to talk,” he says. “If you’re so smart, how come Batman keeps tossing your ass back in here?”

Nigma’s mood shifts, his face darkening. “He cheats, that’s how!”

“Yeah, right,” Aaron scoffs. “I think you like getting your scrawny, green ass beat. You get off on it, don’t you? Most action you ever get, I bet.”

Nigma lets out another laugh. “Oh, I don’t need any help in that department, Cash!”

“Yeah, right. Can you even talk to a woman without giving her your credit card number?”

Nigma looks up at Aaron, his smile that says ‘I know something you don’t know and I’m not going to tell you.’ “Oh, Cash. If you only knew.” Nigma shakes his head and laughs again, and Aaron feels ill at ease. If Nigma’s getting action in Arkham, then he really doesn’t want to know who it is. Finally, the patient interview rooms come into sight. Before he deposits Nigma with Dr. Young, Aaron lets his grip on his shoulder tighten.

“I hear of any more threats you make against the Doc or her family, you’re gonna be a body cast for the next six months. We clear?”

Nigma rolls his eyes. “It was hardly a threat! I merely asked the good doctor if the woman in the picture was her mother! It’s not my fault if she sees things that aren’t there-”

Aaron’s grip tightens to the point where Nigma hisses out in pain. “Are we clear?” Aaron repeats, his voice coming out in a low growl.

Nigma glares at him, defiant. “Crystal. Now run along, Cash. There are other patients for you to brutalize.”

Cash loosens his grip and knocks on the door.


	13. Sherlock Holmes vs. Magnum PI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or who let Bullock and Ed both become PIs?

 

 

Gordon hadn’t seen Nigma in person since he’d come to GCPD headquarters after the Goodman incident. That had been almost six months ago, and a lot had happened since. As Gordon arrived onto the murder scene, he witnessed first hand a fierce argument between Nigma and his former chief Detective, Harvey Bullock. He suppressed a groan. The more things changed…

“Shove off, Nigma! I was here first!”

“This is my case! I’m the one with the mind to solve it, not you, you third rate slob! You’re not crowding me out of my profession-”

“Keep talkin’ Nigma!” Bullock shouted, poking the shorter man and almost shoving him back. “I’m not in GCPD anymore, which means I don’t have to worry about Internal Affairs coming down on me for kickin’ your ass!”

Nigma bared his teeth. “Touch me and I’ll have you served with a lawsuit so fast-”

“Enough! Both of you!” Gordon interjected at last. Bullock took a step back and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, while Nigma crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. They looked more like children being scolded by a parent than a former detective and a former Rogue. “Now,” Gordon said in a more even tone of voice. “What seems to be the issue?”

Nigma responded first. “I received a call regarding a murder in this neighborhood and, of course, leaped at the chance to apply my intellect to this case-”

“And get your name in the papers,” Bullock grumbled.

Nigma glared at him. “Shut up. Anyway, I arrived and found this lummox here, contaminating evidence-”

“The Hell I was!” Bullock shouted. “I was a cop, I know more about how to secure a crime scene than you-”

“Right, you were an exemplary officer, that’s why you’re here, poaching my cases instead of still being on the force!”

“Nigma,” Gordon warned, but it was too late. Bullock’s face was dark red, his eyes almost bulged out.

“That was your fault,” Bullock hissed. “That was because of you, and your stupid grudge match with Tut-”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Nigma said, and Gordon himself wanted to slap him. “This has been amusing, but in case you didn’t notice, there’s a murder to solve.”

“Yes,” Gordon said. “And GCPD will take it from here. Go home, Nigma.” Gordon pretended not to be a bit satisfied when Nigma’s face darkened and Bullock’s lit up. “You too, Harv,” he said gently. “We’ll talk later.”

Bullock handled his dismissal more gracefully than Nigma at least, for he just shrugged. “Sure thing, Commish.” Gordon thought the matter resolved until Bullock turned to a retreating Nigma and said, “Better luck next time, Eddie. Looks like your girlfriend’s not here to stick up for you.”

Gordon internally groaned. Dammit, Bullock. Nigma turned sharply, his face white, then red, then he lunged towards Bullock, holding his cane above his head and swinging it down with all his might. Bullock swore and barely avoided the blow, before throwing a punch at Nigma, which he deflected with the cane. Gordon ran to break up the fight, once again considering the fact that he was getting too old for this job.


	14. What Never Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Jonathan had made a different decision that night at Arkham?

Edward was beginning to think he’d been an insomniac in his previous life. This was the third night in a row that he was up until the wee small hours of the morning, eyes on the ceiling, almost waiting for something or someone.

He sighed and took a glance at the clock on his hospital dresser. 4:30 am. Whatever it was he was waiting for, it didn’t seem like it was coming. He shut his eyes and lay his head back against the pillow.

Then he heard a shriek.

He opened his eyes and sat up. Another shriek sounded down the hall, closer to his room. Then he heard footsteps. He instinctually reached his arm out to grab something, only for his hand to land on bed sheets. He heard the footsteps continue until they stopped at his door. Edward felt his heart almost hammering out of his chest. Was this what he’d been waiting for?

The door opened and a man walked in. A tall, scrawny man, wearing…a scarecrow costume? Edward didn’t know whether he should be scared, or laugh. As the man took long, purposeful steps to his bedside, he started to feel calm. Had he known this man once?

The man finally stopped at the side of Edward’s bed. He dropped to his knees and reached a long, spindly arm up to pull off his mask. He was an older man, forehead creased, his mousy brown hair a tangled mess. His eyes though. They were a piercing ice blue that seemed to penetrate Edward’s very soul. He’d dreamed about those eyes since he’d woken up. He knew this man.

“Edward,” the man spoke in a southern drawl that was painfully familiar. The man grasped Edward’s hands into his own and stared into his eyes. Edward should object quite strongly to being touched like this, but it felt right. “Edward,” the man spoke again, and although his face remained cold and impassive, his voice contained so much longing. “Do you remember me?”

Edward withdrew one hand and reached up to touch this man’s face. His name was on the tip of his tongue, what was it, how did they know each other, then his hand lowered and brushed against the corse material of his costume and he remembered. Burlap. He hated burlap, why couldn’t he ever dress appropriately, he looked like a bumpkin, honestly, J-

“Jonathan,” he murmured. Then he remembered. He remembered that first night they were assigned the same cell in Arkham, he remembered arguing with this man, he remembered coming to respect this man, he remembered-He remembered he loved this man. His face broke out into a wide smile. “Jonathan!” He lunged forward then, and Jonathan pulled him into a tight embrace. “I knew,” Edward murmured against his neck. “I knew you’d find me.”

He felt Jonathan’s shoulders shake slightly. “Edward, Darlin’,” the man murmured. “I missed you. I missed you so much.” He pulled away and Edward could see the tears that were forming. “Can-can I kiss you?”

Edward answered that stupid question by kissing him and for the first time since he’d woken up in a hospital bed with no memories, he felt safe.

* * *

By the time Batman got to the rehabilitation center, the rudimentary fear toxin had worn off the staff members. Edward was gone, much as Batman suspected he would be, and so were the meager items he had in his room. He spent the next few nights stopping by every old hideout Crane had ever had but found no trace of them. Eventually, he needed to focus his attention to other cases, but he kept one ear out for any word about the Riddler and Scarecrow making a return appearance in Gotham. They never did...

...And then Edward woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry.


	15. I Think I Love You, and I'm Terrified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Certain things remain unsaid between Edward and Penelope

Penelope shook her head and went back to scribbling notes in her journal. “Honestly, Edward, I don’t know how you can manage to solve a serial murder case and irritate everyone around you at the same time.”

Edward, seated in the chair opposite her desk, chuckled a bit. “It’s my superpower. I’m sure you have it written down in that journal of yours somewhere.”

Penelope looked up briefly to arch an eyebrow. “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t spend every waking moment thinking about you.” Her words are cold, but Edward could hear the exasperated fondness with which she spoke them. 

He continued their banter. “More’s the pity, dear doctor.”

She looked back to her journal without another word, this time with her lips slightly turned upwards. She was more serious than Selina but more demonstrative than Jonathan-Edward stopped that thought. Penelope wasn’t Selina or Jonathan. Penelope was Penelope, with all of her imperfections, all of her perfections-he stopped that thought too. 

When she didn’t look back up at him, he took the opportunity to study her, to sear every small movement of hers into his brain. If Edward fell into a coma again, he hoped to whatever higher power existed that when he woke up he remembered her, that he remembered how she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, how she worried her lower lip when she was concentrating, how her ice blue eyes lit up when she was engaged in animated conversation, how she was perhaps the most grounded person he knew but when she did laugh, she snorted a bit, how she could be as maddeningly arrogant as he was but more vulnerable than he’d ever been, how she was one of the only people who had ever genuinely believed he could be something better than what he was, how she made him feel something he never thought he could feel again and how it made him feel exhilarated and sick all at once.

Almost as he’d begun though, she looked up again, as if she felt his gaze on her. It was never long enough. “What?” she asked.

 _I’m the greatest mind of my time and you’re an acceptable match, let’s get dinner and pretend for one night that I’m any good for you. I’m a former criminal with a rap sheet longer than your old textbooks and I’d burn this city to the ground if it would keep you safe. I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified._ “Nothing. Just getting bored.”

Penelope let out a huff and Edward wanted to kick himself. “You can take a book off my shelf while I finish up. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”

Edward got out of his chair and walked towards the bookshelf, where he knew she kept a copy of Cat’s Cradle for him specifically. If he had looked back, he would have noticed the wistful look she gave him.


End file.
